I was sitting on the fence today, about getting any work done or not. If I hadnít had a personal stake in it, I probably would have vegetated my Sunday away as usual. But I need money. And Iím not saying that in the sense that if I donít work I donít get paid. What Iím saying is that part of my job is writing my own payroll check. Funny that a person would get paid for paying himself, but there you go. I sign my own name on the check, too.
As previously discussed, without any money in the company checking account, writing myself a paycheck (and signing it) does little good. It could even do some harm, if I should happen to try to deposit a check that I know isnít covered. The good news is that I had a desperate message on my answering machine when I got home last night. Some of the guys didnít get last weekís paychecks in the mail. So I know thereís actually some money in the account, at least until the post office gets things straightened out.
I think I was expected to panic when I got that message, but instead I got annoyed. Tim arranges things so that I canít mail each weekís payroll before Wednesday, and if thereís a mail hang-up somewhere between here and there (a distance of about a hundred miles), itís not my fault. I get blamed anyway, and I get desperate phone calls, as if thereís anything I can do about it. Iím not driving to Sacramento to do the post officeís job for them, I can promise you that.